But they received the orders with expressionless, downcast faces and remained in camp.
``No birds, no animals here,'' explained Rosa. ``All gone. May be they get some fish.''
But the Indians could not be persuaded to exert themselves. They could see the sacks and bales of food heaped on the bank; it would be plenty of time to start hunting and fishing when that had been exhausted.
Meanwhile there were canoes to be built.
``This is clearly Amazon water,'' said Dr. Messinger. ``It probably flows into the Rio Branco or the Rio Negro. The Pie-wies live along the bank and the City must from all accounts be down-stream of us, up one of the tributaries. When we reach the first Pie-wie village we will be able to get guides.''
The canoes were made of woodskin. Three days were spent in finding trees of suitable age and straightness and in felling them. They cut four trees and worked on them where they lay, clearing the brush for a few feet round them. They stripped the bark with their broad-bladed knives; that took another week. They worked patiently but clumsily; one woodskin was split in getting it off the trunk. There was nothing Tony and Dr. Messinger could do to help. They spent that week guarding the sugar from the women. As the men moved about the camp and the surrounding bush, their steps were soundless; their bare feet seemed never to disturb the fallen leaves, their bare shoulders made no rustle in the tangled undergrowth their speech was brief and scarcely audible, they never joined in the chatter and laughing of their women; sometimes they gave little grunts as they worked; only once they were merry, when one of them let his knife slip as he was working on the tree-trunk and cut deeply into the ball of his thumb. Dr. Messinger dressed the wound with iodine, lint and bandages. After that the women constantly solicited him, showing him little scratches on their arms and legs and asking for iodine.
Two of the trees were finished on one day, then another next day (that was the one which split) and the fourth two days after that; it was a larger tree than the others. When the last fibre was severed four men got round the trunk and lifted the skin clear. It curled up again at once making a hollow cylinder, which the men carried down to the water-side and set afloat, fastening it to a tree with a loop of vine-rope.
When all the woodskins were ready it was an easy matter to make canoes of them. Four men held them open while two others fixed the struts. The ends were left open, and curled up slightly so as to lift them clear (when the craft was fully laden it drew only an inch or two of water). Then the men set about fashioning some single-bladed paddles; that, too, was an easy matter.
Every day Dr. Messinger asked Rosa, ``When will the boats be ready? Ask the men,'' and she replied, ``Just now.''
``How many days--four?--five?--how many?''
``No, not many. Boats finish just now.''
At last when it was clear that the work was nearly complete, Dr. Messinger busied himself with arrangements. He sorted out the stores, dividing the necessary freight into two groups; he and Tony were to sit in separate boats and each had with him a rifle and ammunition, a camera, tinned rations, trade goods and his own luggage. The third canoe which would be manned solely by Indians was to hold the flour and rice, sugar and farine, and the rations for the men. The canoes would not hold all the stores and an `emergency dump' was made a little way up the bank.
``We shall take eight men with us. Four can stay behind with the women to guard the camp. Once we are among the Pie-wies everything will be easy. These Macushis can go home then. I don't think they will rob the stores. There is nothing here that would be much use to them.''
``Hadn't we better keep Rosa with us to act as interpreter with the Macushis?''
``Yes, perhaps we had. I will tell her.''
That evening everything was finished except the paddles. In the first exhilarating hour of darkness, when Tony and Dr. Messinger were able to discard the gloves and veils that had been irking them all day, they called Rosa across to the part of the camp where they ate and slept.
``Rosa, we have decided to take you down the river with us. We need you to help us talk to the men. Understand?'' Rosa said nothing; her face was perfectly blank, lit from below by the storm lantern that stood on a box between them; the shadow of her high cheek bones hid her eyes; lank, ragged hair, a tenuous straggle of tattooing along forehead and lip, rotund body in its filthy cotton gown, bandy brown legs.
``Understand?''
But still she said nothing; she seemed to be looking over their heads into the dark forest, but her eyes were lost in shadow.
``Listen, Rosa, all women and four men stay here in camp. Six men come in boats to Pie-wie village. You come with boats. When we reach Pie-wie village, you and eight men and boats go back to camp to other women and men. Then back to Macushi country. Understand?''
At last Rosa spoke. ``Macushi people no go with Pie-wie people.''
``I am not asking you to go with Pie-wie people. You and men take us as far as Pie-wies, then you go back to Macushi people. Understand?''
Rosa raised her arm in an embracing circle which covered the camp and the road they had travelled and the broad savannahs behind them. ``Macushi peoples there,'' she said. Then she raised the other arm and waved it down-stream towards the hidden country. ``Pie-wie peoples there,'' she said. ``Macushi peoples no go with Pie-wie peoples.''
``Now listen, Rosa. You are sensible woman. You lived two years with black gentleman, Mr. Forbes. You like cigarettes--''
``Yes, give me cigarettes.''
``You come with men in boats, I give you plenty, plenty cigarettes.''
Rosa looked stolidly ahead of her and said nothing.
``Listen. You will have your man and seven others to protect you. How can we talk with men without you?''
``Men no go,'' said Rosa.
``Of course the men will go. The only question is, will you come too?''
``Macushi peoples no go with Pie-wie peoples,'' said Rosa.
``Oh God,'' said Dr. Messinger Wearily. ``All right we'll talk about it in the morning.''
``You give me cigarette ...''
``It's going to be awkward if that woman doesn't come.''
``It's going to be much more awkward if none of them come,'' said Tony.
Next day the boats were ready. By noon they were launched and tied in to the bank. The Indians went silently about the business of preparing their dinner. Tony and Dr. Messinger ate tongue, boiled rice and some tinned peaches.
``We're all right for stores,'' said Dr. Messinger. ``There's enough for three weeks at the shortest and we are bound to come across the Pie-wies in a day or two. We will start tomorrow.''
The Indians' wages, in rifles, fish-hooks and rolls of cotton, had been left behind for them at their village. There were still half a dozen boxes of `trade' for use during the later stages of the journey. A leg of bushpig was worth a handful of shot or twenty gun caps in that currency; a fat game bird cost a necklace.
When dinner was over, at about one o'clock, Dr. Messinger called Rosa over to them. ``We start tomorrow,'' he said.
``Yes, just now.''
``Tell the men what I told you last night. Eight men to come in boats, others wait here. You come in boats. All these stores stay here. All these stores go in boats. You tell men that.''
Rosa said nothing.
``Understand?''
``No peoples go in boats,'' she said. ``All peoples go this way,'' and she extended her arm towards the trail that they had lately followed. ``Tomorrow or next day all people go back to village.''
There was a long pause; at last Dr. Messinger said, ``You tell the men to come here ... It's no use threatening them,'' he remarked to Tony when Rosa had waddled back to the fireside. ``They are a queer, timid lot. If you threaten them they take fright and disappear leaving you stranded. Don't worry, I shall be able to persuade them.''